


Take Care

by mydearwatson (Foodie74)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock Roulette, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 23:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4854539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foodie74/pseuds/mydearwatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeking in the window of 221B.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Care

John watches Sherlock wear a path into the sitting room carpet. Round the chairs, across the kitchen doorway, in front of the sofa, weaving between the windows and the desk. Over and over. Brows drawn low, mouth pursed, first finger tap, tap, tapping on his cupid's bow. There's a sudden low rumble of hunger, sounds almost but not quite like distant thunder. 

That is John's call to action. He can't stop the furious thoughts plaguing Sherlock's merciless mind. But he can care for the neglected body and perhaps in doing that, offer some succor to Sherlock's flagging spirit. 

John heads to the kettle first. Hot tea with plenty of sugar to sooth frayed nerves. Next he broils toast. Then slathers it with butter and jam and cuts it into triangles. The triangles are piled onto a plate. Simple, not to heavy, the easiest to way win Sherlock's agreement to eat something. 

Placing tea and toast on a tray, John walks over to the coffee table to lay out the simple offerings. Sherlock pauses in his circuit, glances at the tea and toast. He tries to arrange his face into a smile for John but can't quite do it. The almost smile doesn't come anywhere near his eyes. The circuit resumes. 

Undaunted, John sits on the floor in the middle of Sherlock's established route in front of the sofa. Moments later Sherlock simply steps on the sofa to get round John and continue his circular pacing. Before he can step out of reach, John gently places his hand on Sherlock's calf, half way between his ankle and knee, right where there's just enough of Sherlock to comfortably fill John's hand. John slowly caresses Sherlock's tense muscle to keep him still. 

"Sherlock, please sit. I know you don't want to have tea and toast right now but I do. And I can't make myself some without making enough for you as well. Please sit and keep me company at least."

Sherlock gazes down at John. He knows what John is up to. Of course he does. But this is his John and he can rarely deny him anything. Folding his long legs under him, Sherlock lowers himself to the floor next to John. So close he's practically in John's lap. He leans sideways into John and sighs loudly. 

"I know what you're up to John."

"Good, good, that's good." John sips his tea and pulls a piece of toast from off the plate. Crumbs fall down the front of John's jumper as he bites off a corner of the toast. A small bit of strawberry jam clings to his top lip. 

"You're staring. Have I made a mess? Sherlock?"

Sherlock leans closer and licks the bit of jam from John's mouth. There's another rumble from Sherlock's belly.

When Sherlock lifts his head, John is smiling and holding up the toast. Sherlock leans in again and takes what's left of the toast triangle into his mouth. He chews greedily and shallows loudly. Then sits and waits. John feeds him the rest of the toast triangles with sips of tea between bites. They are silent. Well, they don't speak. But as always there is a conversation taking place. 

Sherlock's eyes roam John's face the same way his body circled the room. But now he's smiling. It's a small, fragile smile. But it's genuine and his eyes are smiling too.


End file.
